rattle, and she never spoke but she laughed to point the speech.

"Be frank," said the Countess; "it is a matter of the heart, and so
proper food for women."

"True," answered Wogan, lightly, "it is a matter of the heart, and in
such matters can one be frank--even to oneself?"

Wogan was immediately puzzled by the curious look Lady Featherstone
gave him. The words were a mere excuse, yet she seemed to take them very
seriously. Her eyes sounded him.

"Yes," she said slowly; "are you frank, even to yourself?" and she spoke
as though a knowledge of the answer would make a task easier to her.

Wogan's speculations, however, were interrupted by the entrance of
Princess Casimira, Sobieski's eldest daughter. Wogan welcomed her coming
for the first time in all his life, for she was a kill-joy, a person of
an extraordinary decorum. According to Wogan, she was "that black care
upon the horseman's back which the poets write about." Her first
question if she was spoken to was whether the speaker was from top to
toe fitly attired; her second, whether the words spoken were well-bred.
At this moment, however, her mere presence put an end to the demands for
an explanation of Wogan's saying about his horse, and in a grateful mood
to her he slipped from the room.

This evening was but one of many during that Christmastide. Wogan must
wear an easy countenance, though his heart grew heavy as lead. The
Countess of Berg was the Prince Constantine's favourite; and Wogan was
not slow to discover that her smiling face and quiet eyes hid the most